


Surrender

by hiddenlongings



Series: Dresden AU Series [5]
Category: Dresden Files - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-07
Updated: 2012-12-07
Packaged: 2017-11-20 12:25:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/585397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddenlongings/pseuds/hiddenlongings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Their first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Surrender

Whenever Harry had slept with women he had avoided any sort of emotional attachment. Most of the women that he had maneuvered into sleeping with him had been very willing, and as violent as he was.

Harry had no interest in bringing a gentle little lamb of a woman into his bed; he had enough people edging away from him fearfully in the other parts of his life.

When Marcone had backed him into the bedroom, Harry had been willing. He figured if the man didn't flinch when Harry started blowing shit up, he wouldn't have to worry about freaking Marcone out too much.

Marcone had chivvied Harry back far enough that his knees had hit the edge of the bed. Lying down on his back seemed like the worst sort of surrender. An implied weakness, that even here Harry was desperate not to show. But Marcone was relentless.

Though shorter than Harry, Marcone was still a very large man with enough training to make knocking Harry onto the bed more than a daydream.

Harry hit the bed with a disgruntled huff, his eyes narrowing in anger and hands clenching into fists.

Fists that Harry slowly relaxed when Marcone knelt between his legs.

When Harry felt Marcone begin to unzip his pants, the arousal that had been on a low simmer for most of the night went raging higher, and Harry felt his groin begin to tighten and surge against the confining cloth.

His fingers were trembling as he began to unbutton his shirt, fumbling briefly at the cuffs to loosen them enough that he wouldn't be caught in the sleeves.

A mild tug on his pants legs had his hips raised up enough that Marcone could free him from their confines after only a mild hesitation.

Marcone slipped Harry's pants and boxers down and slipped them off of his already bare feet.

When Marcone stood up and stepped away, Harry's nostrils flared in surprised alarm that the older man noticed and gentled with a calm smile.

Folding the pants and boxers into a neat pile, Marcone set them gently on a chair. Harry's shirt was tossed over the chair back. Now that Harry was naked except for the elastic band that kept his hair pulled away from his face.

Marcone nonchalantly began to take off his own clothing, and suddenly Harry couldn't catch his breath.

The broad expanse of well-muscled chest that Marcone exposed was considerably more hirsute than Harry's and the dark hair was liberally sprinkled with gray but Harry's eyes swept over it greedily. Noting each scar, cataloging each bullet and knife wound. His tongue licked his suddenly arid lips, and muscles clenched in preparation as Harry started to stand.

Harry wanted to launch himself at the smaller man and cover Marcone completely with his own considerably more impervious body.

But Marcone was too quick for him, and a gentle shove had Harry once again on his back on the bed, but this time with a hundred and sixty pounds of mafia boss on top of him.

Marcone slicked his tongue along the same trail that Harry's had so recently followed before he slipped it between Harry's parted lips.

The kiss was softer than any that Harry had had in recent memory. No snapping bites to draw blood, no clacking teeth. Just a sweet entwining of tongues with no space between them for breath.

Most of Harry's height was in his legs, so when he was standing he was almost a foot taller than Marcone, but lying down the difference was negligible.

Legs straddling Harry's hips, Marcone began to grind his cock against Harry's. The sensation was odd, still filled with the erotic heat that Harry remembered from earlier liaisons with women, but the difference was enough to make him gasp, and wrap his arms around Marcone's shoulders.

Harry forced himself to pull away from Marcone's lips, and he buried his head in the hollow between Marcone's head and shoulders. His breaths coming out as near frantic sobs as he inhaled the spicy cologne that Marcone had put on and thrust his hips in ragged rhythm with Marcone's.

He only let himself cower from Marcone's sight for a couple of thrusts before he wrenched himself backwards and flipped Marcone underneath him.

Forearms braced on either side of Marcone's head, Harry wanted desperately to stare into Marcone's eyes, but their was no reason to show Marcone just how much of a monster he was before they had even gone on a proper date. So he let his eyes fall closed, and gently pressed his forehead against Marcone's.

Their hips had never quit their leisurely rubbing, and Harry felt his belly start to tingle as a precursor to his orgasm.

Too many women had tried to leave him at this point, Harry knew that this was the point where he got most violent, knew that women could see more of him than they could before. Too many of them had lurched away from him, stealing from him that moment of connection that he wanted so desperately.

So his hands left the bed and none to gently pinned Marcone's wrists down. He needed to see Marcone's face though so Harry reluctantly let his eyes flutter open as he looked down at Marcone.

He knew that his face was a snarling mask, teeth bared, eyes blazing with a mixture of magic and the rage that he tried to keep hidden both of them unquenchable. Marcone didn't flinch from it; instead he gently pushed against Harry's hands, not as though he wanted to get away, but rather like he wanted to feel the pressure. To know that Harry was keeping him right where he was. The lips that were drawn back from Harry's teeth were reached for and Marcone gently drew on his lower lip, suckling it out of time with the rhythm of their hips.

That was it.

Harry bore down with his hips and his hands as he came. Cum spurting and slicking the path for Marcone.

Harry had been nearly silent throughout except for some heavy panting, but when he collapsed on top of Marcone feeling like all of his muscles had been set alight, he couldn't help the throaty moan of "John" that erupted from him as he tried to keep Marcone as close to him as possible.

John was able to slip his wrists away from Harry's slack hands and he slid them around Harry's torso as he began to frantically drive himself against Harry's softening cock.

A couple of seconds later, he came with a low grunt.

They lay together for what seemed like hours to Harry, John uncomplainingly taking Harry's considerable weight.

When Harry finally started to draw away from the embrace, he was only able to pull away a couple of inches before John's arms tightened around him.

"Harry look at me." John's voice was a raspy growl that made Harry instinctively turn his head towards the older man, carefully keeping his eyes away from John's.

"No Harry. Look AT me."

Harry Dresden looked into John Marcone's eyes and almost immediately he could feel the soulgaze starting.

He didn't look away.


End file.
